This is a most interesting
disc, bringing together a number of
arrangements for violin and piano of
truly exquisite music by Chopin, by
some of the greatest 19th and early
20th century concert virtuosi.
I have not listed the full titles (i.e.
with keys) of the originals, because
most of these arrangements have been
transposed into keys which better suit
the ‘lie’ of the violin. Most of these
arrangements are no masterpieces (as
arrangements, I mean) in that they simply
transfer melodic material to the violin,
leaving the piano to intone any ‘remaining’
harmonic matter or accompaniment material,
or else - occasionally - to engage in
whatever melodic dialogue the soloist
is unable to accommodate. So these aren’t
the kind of transcriptions you’d expect
of a true composer. The violin
is very much the centre of attention,
almost to the point of requiring the
composer to take a back seat. Indeed,
the act of transposing the originals
(whether by an all-important semitone,
or by as much as a third) to suit the
‘new’ instrument is bound to alter the
tonal character of the music fundamentally.
The immortal Berceuse
is perhaps an extreme example of this
kind of ‘deformation’. Cerné’s
arrangement offers the bizarre combination
of a hyperactive violin part - so busy
as to tax the most virtuosic of soloists
- and a piano part so stripped bare
of any musical interest as to run the
risk of anaesthetising pianist and audience!
Chopin’s original combines a wonderfully
ornate right hand over a mesmersingly
repetitive left hand pattern. It is
a divine inspiration and - sorry to
be inflexible - cannot survive
voicing for two instruments!
There is inevitably
some gain to compensate for this
loss. The violin is, of course, able
to sing ‘through’ notes where the piano’s
tone decays, and to gather its tone
consistently through a crescendo
phrase, whereas the piano can only simulate
such things, or progress upwards in
crude (sic) dynamic ‘steps’.
But the art of any pianist (and any
pianist-composer) is to transcend such
‘shortcomings’.
Ms Madroszkiewicz is
a very capable player, who is well able
to deliver the most demanding of multiple
stops, counterpoint, high tessitura
and dazzling passage work. But I find
her irritatingly inconsistent. In places,
her portamento is hugely intrusive
- perhaps not untypical of Sarasate
or Huberman in their day, but sentimentalising
(if not cheapening) Chopin, whose expressive
voice was so subtle. It makes you realise
just what an excellent singing voice
the piano is!
Similarly, her phrasing.
Sometimes, matching phrases (echoes,
sequences or question-and-answer dialogues)
are delivered in annoyingly different
ways. And, while at times she seems
completely on top of the job, there
are other times where everything seems
uncomfortably close to the edge, with
rubato seemingly determined as
much by the need to lighten her burden
as to illuminate the music.
Don’t be too
deterred by my misgivings. There is
some very beautiful music here: indeed,
number after number is a pearl of great
price! And music such as this is indestructible,
and well able to survive this kind of
alternative scrutiny. Violinists will
be (should be) fascinated! Devotees
of the composers will be (should
be) wary!
Peter J Lawson
Joanna Madroszkiewicz (violin) and Paul
Gulda (piano) 
